


Day 1 - Resurrection Day

by ReneeLaRoux



Series: A Year In The Life [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Developing Relationship, Doctor!Merlin, Friendship/Love, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Original Character(s), Reincarnation, Resurrection, Snapshots, day in the life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 21:19:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12442065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReneeLaRoux/pseuds/ReneeLaRoux
Summary: The belligerent yelling and struggling ceased in a stuttered heartbeat. All around him the familiar sounds of the hospital continued, but his world seemed to stop.“M-Merlin?”“Arthur.”Merlin is the doctor on-call when Arthur is dragged, kicking and screaming, into Avalon General.





	Day 1 - Resurrection Day

**Author's Note:**

> A glimpse into the life of immortal Merlin and newly-resurrected Arthur. 
> 
> Pretty tame for now, smut to follow!

     “I can’t feel my feet,” Merlin yawned, raising his arms overhead to stretch his tight, tired muscles. The dark blue scrub top rode up to reveal pale skin that seemed to glow under the fluorescent lights. A sliver of red peeked out from under the hem.

     “When was the last time you took a vacation, Merlin?” asked Bella, his favorite nurse.

     “Oh, you know me,” he grinned, “I just can’t stay away from this place.” She snorted.

     “That explains why you’re in on your day off,” she turned back to her paperwork. Giving his neck one last crack, Merlin checked his watch. 6:30 a.m. Just another half hour left of his last-minute shift in the Accidents and Emergencies Department of Avalon General. He took another sip of his cafeteria coffee and grabbed his own stack of paperwork. He hated paperwork. After twelve hours on his feet treating the interesting array of patients he’d seen that night, the last thing he needed was tiny black letters on white paper to make his eyes blur. Glancing at Bella, he quickly turned his back and stared hard at the page in front of him. His blue eyes glowed gold for half a second. He smiled when words, neatly written in his handwriting, dictated from his mind, appeared. It was an incantation of his own design, and it came especially handy in his nearly one thousand years as a physician. Smiling to himself, he set the stack on the desk and lowered himself into a vacant chair, closing his eyes.

     “One of these days you’re going to get caught,” Bella drawled beside him, never taking her eyes off her own work. He jumped, rubbing his three-day stubble sheepishly. She was the only person in three hundred years who knew about his magic. She had found out completely by accident when she came around a corner and witnessed him spill coffee all down his front. The witty comment died on her lips when the coffee disappeared in an instant. When their eyes met, his were still fading from gold to familiar blue. She had been surprisingly cool with it all, and had sworn to keep it a secret.

     “I am the greatest sorcerer who ever lived,” he retorted, propping his aching feet up on the counter and tucking his hands behind his head. “I’ll never get caught by mere mortals!”

     “Whatever you say, old man.” They burst into tired giggles, gaining strange looks and a few good-natured eye rolls from passing hospital staff. The two had grown close over the two years Merlin had worked at Avalon General. She was a forty-something married mom of four who didn’t take crap from anyone except Merlin, who she tended to mother when she couldn’t help it. He was the eternally young bachelor who practically helped invent modern medicine (though they kept that between themselves). They made a great team, and everyone knew it. Which was why when the events of the next hour unfolded, no one really questioned them too much.

     Merlin jumped automatically to his feet when the “DR. EMRYS” page came over the loud speaker. Bella followed him out of the Nurses’ Station and to the large double doors at the A&E entrance, which burst open a moment later. Paramedics were wheeling in a gurney that carried a yelling, struggling man. He had been strapped in and was attempting to get free. Merlin groaned.

     “Why couldn’t they have waited another twenty minutes?” he muttered darkly to Bella as they pulled on fresh pairs of purple latex gloves. They moved alongside the medics, gathering their initial report. Caucasian male, mid-twenties, found wandering barefoot around Avalon Lake. Combative. Possible head injury. No identification. The yelling grew louder, and Merlin could have sworn he’d heard that voice before. He hoped to God it wasn’t that crazy crack-head he treated last week. He really wasn’t in the mood for another kick to the stomach. Warily, he turned to take in his newest patient. The man was soaked to the bone, his clothing clinging to well-muscled limbs. Blond hair was stuck to the tanned skin of his face. One glance into those sapphire eyes had Merlin thanking heaven that he had already been bracing himself, otherwise he might have fallen over. The belligerent yelling and struggling ceased in a stuttered heartbeat. All around him the familiar sounds of the hospital continued, but his world seemed to stop.

     “M-Merlin?”

     “Arthur.”

     There in his A&E, being restrained by nurses, was the Once and Future King. His Arthur. A million thoughts raced through his mind, completely overwhelmed. The first thing he noticed was that Arthur hadn’t changed one iota. It was as if time stopped the day Merlin sent him away in that boat, though it had been nearly fifteen hundred years. His chainmail and armor had gotten lost in translation somewhere, because he was dressed in soft brown trousers and a pure white tunic, which were now sheer with water.

     “Uh, Dr. Emrys?” Bella’s voice dragged him back to reality. Nurses and medics were watching him.

     “It’s okay,” his throat was dry. “He’s my friend. Arthur.” Bella’s eyebrows shot into her hairline, but said nothing. She knew Merlin’s story and understood the gravity of the situation.

     “Merlin?” Arthur was looking around, fear and confusion clear in his eyes. “Where am I? What’s happening? Why am I being tied up? What are you wearing?”

     “It’s okay, Arthur. I’ll explain everything soon,” Merlin assured him. He turned to the crowd that was still gathered around the gurney.

     “I can take it from here, thanks,” he said briskly. “Bella, will you assist me?” She nodded and set to work shooing away nurses with some brilliant lie about friends with amnesia before helping Merlin relocate Arthur to a more secluded corner of the triage unit. She quickly gathered some towels and clean scrubs before following the two men into a stall and pulling the privacy curtains shut. Merlin and Arthur were just staring at each other, rapt and shocked expressions on both their faces. Arthur had become pale and was trembling slightly. He broke Merlin’s gaze to let his eyes dart around his unfamiliar surroundings, breathing becoming more shallow as the seconds ticked by.

     “It’s okay, Arthur,” Merlin murmured, directing his focus back on him. “It’s the year 2017, you’ve been gone over fifteen hundred years. We’re in Avalon General Hospital. I’m a physician. I’ll explain it all to you later, but right now I need you to try and calm down and let us examine you.” Arthur’s eyes widened when Merlin pulled out a stethoscope and a blood pressure cuff out of a nearby drawer. Merlin saw the fear in his eyes and set down the instruments. He dropped to his knees and took the man’s hand.

     “Please,” he breathed, “let me take care of you, Sire.”

     That was it. The magic word. It was all it took for the dam to break. One moment Merlin was smiling reassuringly, the next he was crumbling. Every miserable moment, every lonely day, every suicide attempt, every throb of his heart came rushing back. The memories of the day he said goodbye to his best friend, as fresh as if the happened yesterday. And the relief. The sweet, sweet relief of Arthur, alive and here with him after so many centuries. It was too much for him to hold back any longer. He broke down in tears, covering his face with his hands.

     Bella watched silently, unsure of what to do. She’d never seen Merlin so emotional. He was always steady and patient, the calm in the storm. Now he was falling apart, and her motherly instincts were screaming at her to comfort him. She was about to reach for him when Arthur knelt in front of him and pulled the doctor into his arms. Merlin buried his face in Arthur’s neck, thin body racked with sobs. Arthur just held him, stroking the dark hairs on his face, whispering words that Bella couldn’t hear. He turned his head and she saw the silent tears streaming from closed eyes. She remembered something Merlin had told her, that Arthur was his destiny, that they were two sides of the same coin. Chills broke out across her skin at the sight of such a momentous occasion – the King and the Warlock, reunited once more. She set down the supplies in her arms and slipped out between the curtains to give them privacy.

     Merlin and Arthur remained in each other’s arms for a few more precious minutes before Merlin heard a soft “Idiot”. He laughed and looked up into Arthur’s eyes. “Prat” he retorted. They grinned. Already Merlin could feel the decades of hurt begin to heal within him. He wiped his face and glanced around, suddenly realizing they were alone.

     “Bella?” he called.

     “Here, Merlin.” She reappeared, eyes red with tears that she would deny shedding. Together they set to work gently examining Arthur, careful not to startle him with their modern medical equipment. Merlin had no idea how long he’d been alive under the water of Avalon, or what he’d stepped on running around barefoot, or what affects being dead for fifteen hundred years would have. He was deemed healthy as a horse (“I’m fighting fit, _Mer_ lin”), uninjured save for a few scratches, with no stab wound to speak of, and as mentally stable as Merlin could hope for after such an ordeal.

     “Bella, will you please work up some discharge papers? Arthur’s coming home with me,” Merlin said. She left and he helped Arthur get cleaned up and changed.

     “What are these strange clothes?” Arthur asked as he pulled on the soft trousers.

     “They’re called scrubs,” Merlin explained, “Doctors and nurses wear them so they don’t ruin their regular clothes”

     “Why are you wearing this,” Arthur tugged on the sleeve of Merlin’s white coat.

     “Because I’m a doctor,” he shrugged and pointed to where _Merlin Emrys, M.D._ was embroidered into the fabric.

     “I still can’t believe you’re a physician, Merlin,” Arthur chuckled, “You’re the clumsiest oaf I know”. Merlin swatted him with a towel.

     “Only when I’m off duty.”

     “And what on earth is this, _Mer_ lin?” Arthur patted Merlin’s scruffy cheek. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to grow facial hair.”

     “It makes me look older,” Merlin flashed him a wicked grin. “People aren’t too trusting of a 23-year-old practicing medicine on them.” Arthur snorted.

     Once Arthur was dry and dressed Merlin led him out to the Nurses’ Station, where Bella was waiting with discharge papers to be signed.

     “And don’t bother coming in tomorrow,” she said. “I pulled some strings with Jenny in Scheduling, you’ve been cleared for two weeks of vacation.” Merlin grinned and pulled her into a hug.

     “You’re the best, Bella,”

     “I know.” As he turned back to give her one last wave, she gestured to Arthur’s pert behind and gave him a thumb’s up. Merlin blushed. He would be getting lots of uncomfortable questions their next shift together. He knew telling Bella about his feelings for Arthur would come back to bite him. Shaking his head, he hurriedly led Arthur out the hospital doors.

     So began the barrage of questions. Merlin was surprised it took so long, considering how nosy Arthur was, and considering the incredible time-jump he’d just experienced. But he supposed he was just in a state of shock and confusion about the whole coming-back-from-the-dead thing.

     “Where are we going, Merlin?”

     “Home.”

     “I don’t see any horses.”

     “We don’t use horses anymore. Well, not around here. I have a car.”

     “What’s a car?”

     “That thing.” Arthur gasped as they entered the parking garage. Merlin had to spend the next five minutes explaining automobiles until Arthur would even get into his sporty little red BMW.

     “So magic is legal now?” Merlin had to explain that magic was so rare hardly anyone believed it was even real. Everything he was about to experience in this time was the result of technology and modern knowledge (though Merlin used his magic around the house whenever he felt like it). Arthur white-knuckled the entire five-mile drive back to Merlin’s house in a more suburban area of town. He was in awe of the skyscrapers they passed, and the colorful billboards, and the clothing people wore, and the rows and rows of homes in Merlin’s neighborhood.

     “Are you sure this is the same place we once lived in?” he asked, eyes wide. Merlin nodded. Arthur’s eyes only grew larger (if that were possible) when Merlin pressed a button on his sun visor and pulled into a “magically” opening garage attached to the corner house. Arthur fell silent once more when Merlin parked and led him through the darkened garage. They entered the house and Merlin flipped on the lights. They were standing in the kitchen, from which they had a view of the dining room to the right and the large living room to the left.

     “Welcome to Casa de Merlin,” the sorcerer said, setting his backpack on the breakfast table. Arthur gave him a puzzled look. “It’s my house,” he said, shaking his head. He really needed sleep.

     “All this is yours?” Arthur was astonished. The Merlin he knew was a poor servant. “How can you afford it?” 

     “I’ve been working and saving and investing for the last 1500 years. I’m wealthier than you were as King,” Arthur looked disbelieving. The fact was, Merlin could afford to stop working for the next 1000 years if he chose. That’s what happens when you’re used to living on next to nothing and using magic for things like transportation, gathering food, and mending things. He’d had some of his clothing for close to twenty years, and the same furniture for about five decades, though it looked brand new (it really was true that everything comes back in style eventually). This home and his car were the only things he’d let himself splurge on in the last three centuries; he rather thought he deserved it.

     “Come on, I’ll give you the grand tour,” he pulled Arthur along through the kitchen, pointing out how he could find food to eat, and what the different appliances did. Arthur was fascinated by the ice machine in the refrigerator, but terrified of the toaster. Next they moved to the living room, where Arthur instantly fell in love with the big brown easy chair. Merlin promised to show him movies on his flat screen later, and led him down the hallway, where they stopped at the bathroom. Arthur was relieved (no pun intended) to learn about indoor plumbing, and sheepishly asked if he could try the toilet out himself. Merlin waited outside and couldn’t suppress the chuckle when he heard the toilet flush and the awed “wow!” that followed. Further down the hall was the first bedroom, which Merlin had converted into an office. The walls were lined with book-stuffed shelves, and an old comfy couch sat in the corner. A large desk piled high with papers and more books stood at the opposite end of the room. When Arthur asked what the two oddly shaped boxes were on the desk, it took Merlin a moment to realize he meant the laptop and printer.

     “Remind me to teach you about the internet,” he told his friend.

     They then passed the guest room (now Arthur’s new room, he supposed) and another empty room that Merlin hadn’t figured out what to do with in the three years he’d lived there.

     “Maybe you’ll find something to do with it,” he told Arthur, “once you discover what you enjoy doing in this time.”

     Finally, Merlin ushered Arthur into his own bedroom. Naturally it was the largest, with a king-sized bed that was currently tempting Merlin way too much. He kept his home relatively simple, and his own room was no exception. It was light and open and calming – big bed dressed in white, bedside table with a book and half-filled glass of water. A small desk next to the window that held some personal belongings. A few impressionist paintings hung around the room and on either side of the bed were two small shelves that held treasures he had collected over the centuries. Merlin’s favorite feature of the master bedroom was actually the bathroom. It was properly massive. It had a long counter with two sinks, a semi-private nook where the toilet was fixed, and a spacious shower with a waterfall head. But the best part was the whirl-pool tub that sat opposite the shower. It was the reason he bought the house in the first place. It was big enough for four adults (...not that he’d ever done that…) and felt like heaven after a long day in the A&E. He could practically hear it calling his name now. He was brought back to reality by Arthur sitting on his memory foam mattress and sighing.

     “This is the most comfortable thing I’ve ever felt,” he said reverently, lovingly stroking the soft bedspread.

     “Trust me, it is,” Merlin assured him, yawning widely. He kicked off his sneakers and found a soft cotton tee to change into. He lifted his scrub top off and had dropped it on the floor when he heard a gasp. He was about to make a joke about being a terrible manservant when he noticed how Arthur was looking at him. Or rather, where.

     “What on God’s good earth is that?” Arthur asked.

     “Patient kicked me last week, hurt like hell,” he hummed.

     “No, not the bruise. _That.”_

     “Oh. That’s a tattoo,” Merlin explained. “It’s colored ink injected under the skin to create a permanent image.” Merlin lifted his arm to allow him a better look at the dragon tattoo that stood stark against his lily-white skin. It started at the middle of his back and curled around until the tail ended just beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs. It was Pendragon red. It was the only tattoo he had, and it was the only one he wanted.

     “But…why?” Arthur asked, clearly puzzled.

     “Because every time I see it, I’m reminded of who I really am,” Merlin stood a little taller. “The Last Dragonlord. The destiny of Arthur Pendragon, the greatest king who ever lived.” Arthur was silent as he stared hard at the body art, and Merlin thought he saw moisture collecting in his friend’s eyes. His stomach, however, chose that moment to growl in protest.

     “You hungry?” The man nodded. He donned his shirt and handed Arthur one to change into. For better or for worse, was too small and hugged around all his still impeccable muscles. Merlin cleared his throat and looked away. Damn.

     “Here’s the plan,” Merlin told him. “We have a good breakfast, get cleaned up, and take a nap.” When Arthur quirked an eyebrow at him he said, “I haven’t slept in twenty-four hours, and I’ll need to sleep at least two if I’m going to make it through the day.”

     “I’m surprised you could manage this long.” This was about the hundredth time today that Arthur had been surprised by his former manservant.

     “Oh, that’s nothing. I once stayed up for 48 hours the third time I was in med school,” Merlin grinned at Arthur’s wide eyes. He didn’t mention how 24 of those hours had been his fault.

     It wasn’t long before they were tucking into a hearty but easy breakfast. Toast with jam, scrambled eggs and bacon, and fresh fruit was the best Merlin could do, since he’d neglected to go shopping yesterday before he was called in to cover another doctor’s shift. They ate and talked, and Merlin couldn’t keep his eyes off Arthur. His Arthur. He was there, sitting in his kitchen. He was just as handsome as he’d remembered, hadn’t aged a day either. Same clear aqua eyes, same sharp jaw and crooked smile and rosy lips. Same golden hair, and a hint of stubble on his smooth skin. Maybe Merlin could convince him to go without shaving for a few days. Merlin himself nearly always had some form of stubble, merely because it helped him look older than he really was (unless he worked an aging spell, he was permanently 23). But he’d learned that he loved the “sexy scruffy” look, as the nurses at work put it. He never could resist a man with some scruff, especially when it scraped gently along his cheek or neck or thigh as he was kissed and nibbled…

     “Merlin?” Arthur’s voice cut off his daydream. “You okay?”

     “Just tired,” Merlin blushed. _When was the last time you were laid, Emrys?_ He grumbled to himself.

     By the time they finished, Merlin felt like he could fall asleep walking. He left Arthur to his own devices for five minutes while he showered away the sweat, grime, and antiseptic of the hospital. When he emerged from the bathroom, already dressed in soft sweatpants and t-shirt, he found Arthur staring out the large window. The early November day was dreary, with clouds that blurred the sun and sent out a constant drizzle. Nevertheless, Arthur was watching the modern world go by. Cars and bikes passing as people left for work. A few people on a morning jog. Gardeners tending the yard across the street. The look on Arthur’s face said he was trying to make sense of everything, but it was all too much, too difficult to comprehend.

     “Your turn,” Merlin said quietly. He turned on the shower for Arthur and showed him how to use shampoo and body wash, and left his friend to bathe in privacy. Merlin set out turning down his covers, turning on the ceiling fan, and pulling the black-out curtains tight. He could sleep anywhere, at any time (one of the gifts of being an A&E doctor), but he preferred to get his shut-eye in darkness. He hadn’t even noticed when the shower was turned off, or when Arthur entered the bedroom once again.

     “Well, I think I did that right.” Merlin turned to see Arthur drying his hair with a fluffy white towel, completely naked. “Bathing in this way really does make things easier.”

     “I agree. Here,” Merlin thrust a pair of boxer briefs, sleep pants and a soft tee at his King, careful not to let his gaze drop below nipple level (though that might have been a mistake, too. He’d forgotten how well-shaped and perfectly-haired his chest was). He turned his back and said, “We’ll go shopping for clothes for you tomorrow. I’m afraid I don’t have anything else that will fit you.”

     “Are you calling me fat, _Mer_ lin?” Arthur’s voice was muffled as he tugged the t-shirt over his head.

     “No! I’m just saying, I’m scrawnier than you. I always was, you know.”

     “You have always been thin, yes. But I’ve never thought you were scrawny,” Arthur smiled at him. “You’re perfect, just the way you are.”

     Merlin blushed. Where had that come from? He was pretty sure he’d never heard anything like that from Arthur in Camelot. Huh.

     “Well, thanks,” he said with a small smile. “So, um, were you going to take a nap, too? The guest room is already made up.” It was Arthur’s turn to blush.

     “Um…well…” he began, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

     “What is it Arthur?”

     “I was wondering if, well, just for now I mean…” Arthur took a steadying breath. “Just for now, can I stay here with you?” His voice had lowered to nearly a whisper, like he was sharing a secret. “I just…I just want to be near you.”

     He looked so child-like, so unsure and self-conscious. So unlike the great king Merlin had followed into battle all those years ago. His heart melted a little at Arthur’s admittance. He smiled and climbed into bed, patting the space beside him. Arthur joined him with a grateful smile.

     “I just got you back, Arthur,” Merlin said, pulling the covers up to his chin. “I think I want you near me too. Just so I know I’m not dreaming.”

     “Dream of me often?” Arthur quirked that brow again.

     “Every night of my life,” Merlin said quietly. He felt something warm touch the hand that was resting above the covers. Arthur’s hand.

     “I’m here now,” he breathed. They drifted into a comfortable silence as Merlin, then Arthur, fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

     The soft _veep veep veep_ of his phone’s alarm gently brought Merlin back to consciousness. After blearily silencing his phone, he noticed two things. First, he felt _much_ better after a few hours’ sleep. Second, Arthur had sidled up close, broad shoulder to Merlin’s daintier one. Arthur was still holding his hand. He smiled at the sleeping man and, for the moment, didn’t let himself think about the future, or why Arthur had been brought back now, or the challenges they would face in the coming weeks and months. For these precious few moments he gazed at his Arthur, his king. His best friend. His heart’s purpose for beating. He had never forgotten the love he had for the man, but having him here lying beside him revived every feeling and desire. He wondered for the millionth time if Arthur ever felt the same way. He watched Arthur sigh in his sleep, shifting into a more comfortable position. They would cross that bridge when they came to it, he supposed, and until then he would keep his feelings and desires to himself. Let Arthur set the pace for this new chapter in their story. He could deal with that. He would deal with anything, now that he had Arthur by his side again.

     He dashed away the sudden, happy tears as Arthur stirred and slowly awoke. When he found Merlin watching him, his grin lit up the room.

     “So it wasn’t a dream.”

     “No. Not anymore.”


End file.
